"Found and Lost"

by: Brandy Dewinter

 

 

JD Shelton found things. It was a knack, like some people have perfect pitch and others can learn languages easily. It wasn't just a learned skill, like, oh, speed-reading or something. It was something JD did that wasn't quite . . . normal. He didn't know if his brain were wired a little differently or what, but . . . well, why DO some people have perfect pitch? Anyway, he'd always been able to find things.

His 'gift' didn't work all that well on specific things. JD would lose his car keys, too, just like ordinary people. But when he'd go looking for them, he'd be likely to find several other sets of keys along the way; keys that were really lost, not just put in a reasonable place by someone else. He'd be walking back into the house to look for his own keys and he'd notice something gleaming in the grass, and sure enough, there would be another set of keys.

That ability was putting him through college (archaeology, what else?). Whenever JD needed a little money, he'd just go to someplace like a park or a beach where people lose things and in a little while he'd find enough rings and wallets (which he'd return, but there was often a reward), and whatever. Money was never a problem. At least, it wasn't a problem if he planned ahead. When he started out on his little hobby, he had to spend more time explaining to the cops where he got all those 'things' than he did hunting for them. Now he just took them to the cops, waited the 90 days for someone to claim the lost items, and those that don't get claimed were his legally. He even had to pay taxes on them.

There was one problem. What JD found were 'things'. Inanimate things. That may not seem like much of a limitation, but by example he could tell you that it was very significant. The example was his not-so-identical identical-twin brother. His brother didn't find 'things'. He found people. Usually shapely blondes, though he wasn't above settling for a redhead or even a brunette if she were particularly cute.

David James Shelton, that's the brother, and James David Shelton were born on the same day. The doctor said they were 'identical' twins in that they had the same genes, but they weren't really all that identical - despite the conveniently inverted names that pleased both grandfathers. It turns out (as JD learned to his . . . 'resigned acceptance' is more correct than sorrow, and amusement for sure doesn't apply) that women conceive twins more often than people realize. Now that pre-natal care is so good, including such tests as sonograms, doctors are finding out that women often carry twins for a while, but one starts to grow just a bit faster for one reason or another and soon it's consuming more and more of the available nutrition. As a result, the other twin spontaneously aborts, or miscarries, or whatever you want to call it. Dies and is reabsorbed. Often, the mother never knows. Or at least she didn't used to know.

In any event, David James was winning that first of all sibling battles, and James David was on his way out before he was even born. But the doctors 'found' JD in there and their mother had a Cesarean before Deej won that fight at JD's expense. Still, JD was less developed than Deej at birth and had been ever since. David James was two inches taller and 30 pounds heavier, and just generally more athletic. Oh, and he didn't need eyeglasses. No one doubted that they were brothers and they were often mistaken for each other on the phone, but twins? Not many believed that without proof, despite their matching, close-cropped white-blond hair and pale blue eyes. Maybe DJ's success at 'finding' women was due to those physical distinctions more than some weird talent that paralleled JD's, but whatever the reason, JD could tell you that finding 'things' was not the best of all possible abilities.

It did, however, pay the rent. JD was hard at work, combing the beach at Galveston. It was merely efficient to do so during spring break. After all, that's when the people were there to lose things. All those lovely, curvaceous, sun-worshipping co-ed kind of people. Girls.

Girls who seemed to have a particular blind spot where JD was concerned, as though he were invisible. Well, not all of them.

"Hey, mister, whatcha doin'?" The light voice could have belonged to a girl or a boy at that age, as could the body though the one-piece polka-dot swimsuit left no doubt as to her gender. The child who regarded JD had that wide-eyed look of wonder that all-too-sophisticated adults considered, well, childish. But it did make the world an interesting place.

JD looked around to find the child's requisite 'parent or adult guardian' and quickly found a frowning pair of eyes watching him - eyes he would love to have pay attention to him under other circumstances for their owner, despite her obviously maternal status, was one of those shapely blondes so often the subject of JD's fantasies. He smiled back, a rueful little almost-grimace, and shrugged his shoulders to say, "It's your kid, and she came up to me. I'm not trying to cause any trouble."

The parent-apparent nodded just a little, sending a return message. "Okay, but I'm watching."

Only then did JD look directly at the girl. "I'm digging for oil," he said with a smile.

"Oil?" the girl repeated, standing back. Then she frowned and said, "There's no oil here, is there?."

"Well, there's oil out there," JD said, pointing at one of the offshore rigs. "Why not here?"

"Didja find any?"

"Not yet," admitted JD. "All I've got so far are a few things people lost, but that's almost as good." As if to prove his point, his small shovel tinked on something beneath the sand. Carefully excavating, he found a heavy bracelet, a band with one portion cut away to leave a large 'C' shape. In the middle of the band was an embedded gem that seemed to shift colors across the entire spectrum.

"Wow!" the girl gasped. "That is cool! You're rich!"

"Maybe not," JD disagreed. "If you find something that might be valuable, you're supposed to turn it into the police so the real owner has a chance to get it back."

"Is that what you do?"

"Of course," JD said, noting an approving nod from the watching mother.

"What if nobody claims it?"

JD smiled and said, "In that case, it's 'Finders-Keepers.'"

"Cool!" the little girl shouted, then quickly turned away. JD might have been offended by the abrupt departure, but he had to smile instead. The girl had gathered up her own shovel and was busily digging for her own treasure not far from her mother's reclining form.

"Thank you," the mother silently mouthed to him. He nodded, then turned back to his own business.

The bracelet was almost two inches wide and surprisingly heavy, as though it might really be the gold that its color promised. Even more surprising was the embedded jewel. It was large, and strangely cut, a triangular shape almost an inch on each side. The color was hard to make out. It did seem to have a color, not be something clear that merely picked up whatever light happened to fall upon it, but that color, whether blue or purple or red seemed to change from moment to moment.

Despite its apparent value - because of it really - JD sighed. Something this distinctive would surely be claimed and was easy enough to describe that the claim would be very credible. "Oh, well," he mused to himself, "maybe there will be a reward."

Without really thinking about it, he slipped it on his wrist rather than into his goodie bag. It fit perfectly, snug enough not to slip around yet not so tight it pinched. JD put that down to the design. He'd never worn a wrist band like that before and thought it was just typical for that sort of bracelet. Gathering up his things he wandered farther down the beach, stopping occasionally whenever the urge struck him to dig a little more.

******************

"Any luck today?" the desk sergeant asked as JD entered the police station.

"Some," admitted JD, handing over his goodie bag. "There's a couple of nice rings, I think. It's pretty hard nowadays to tell real gems from good fakes, but these might be real. I noticed some initials in one of them. One pendant that must have slipped off a chain. I didn't find a chain, though. A few other odds and ends."

"Not bad," the sergeant, Bill Thacker, said, poking a finger in the small pile of jewelry.

"You want the wallets?" JD asked, showing three.

"You gonna call the owners yourself?" the sergeant countered.

"I will if you won't," promised JD.

"Have at it," Thacker ordered. "Saves me trying to keep track of the rewards. Just give me the names in case they show up here."

"Works for me," JD said.

Thacker had been filling out an inventory form as they spoke and offered it to JD to sign.

"See you in three months," said the sergeant.

"Sooner than that," JD promised. "I don't have enough for next year's tuition yet, and summer is the best time at the beach."

"If no one claims these rings, you might find you've got plenty."

"A big 'if'," observed JD as he turned to go.

DJ and JD shared a small apartment on the southeast side of Houston, not far from the University but most of an hour's drive from the Galveston beaches. On the days when JD did his beachcombing duties, he called his brother on the cell phone and they often arranged to meet somewhere to eat. That call also gave DJ a chance to get the girls out of their apartment, or conveniently inform JD that he needed to make other arrangements when that was more desirable.

This time they met at Tookie's, a burger place just over the bridge from Kemah. DJ was waiting for his smaller-but-not-younger brother when he arrived.

"Over here, JD," called Deej.

"Good day?" the bigger brother asked before JD even had a chance to sit.

"Not bad," admitted JD as he pulled out his chair. "You know how it is. If no one claims the stuff, it will have been a really good day. If they do, it'll depend on any sort of rewards they feel like giving me."

"Found a lot of stuff, then?"

"A bit. More than usual maybe," JD said, reaching for the coke his brother had already ordered.

"What's that?" Deej asked, pointing.

"What?" JD asked in turn. Then he noticed the bracelet still on his wrist.

"Damn," he said. "I forgot to turn that in."

"You forgot?" his brother asked in surprise. "How could you forget a thing as big as that? Isn't it heavy?"

"Uh, well, not really, I guess," replied JD. "I mean, when I think of it, it's pretty noticeable, but I forgot all about it."

Deej reached out to touch the shining band. "Geez, that thing is . . . how much do you think it's worth?"

"I have no idea," JD said. "I don't recognize the jewel, but if it's real, it's pretty unusual. Not many people cut gemstones into triangular shapes."

"Well that little bauble sure sparkles," observed Deej. "Hell, the band alone is worth next semester's tuition, I'll bet."

"Not likely," JD said. "This is too distinctive for someone to just let it go. I'll bet someone has already told the cops about it. I need to turn it in."

"Well, it's too late to do it tonight. You can do it later."

"I know, but . . . oh, hell, who would know? I'll do it tomorrow."

*******************

A couple of days later, they were in their apartment when the phone rang

"Get that, will ya?" Deej called. "It's probably for you anyway."

JD picked up the phone and gave his standard glib greeting. "Shelton Summer house. Some're here and some're not."

"Summer?" the voice on the other end said in confusion. "I was, um, trying to reach a, uh, JD Shelton?"

"Speaking."

"Oh, um, good. I, uh, my note said . . . well, never mind. I understand you may have found my wallet?"

"Maybe," agreed JD. "And you are . . ?"

"Oh, of course. Stupid me. I'm Tony Parks. Did you call?"

"I did if you're the Anthony Parks who lost the wallet I have. Could you describe some of the contents?"

"Um, sure, well, there's some pictures and ID of me, of course, so you can be sure I'm the right guy. But, let's see, there should be a picture of me with my airplane, too. A Yankee."

"I won't hold that against you," JD said, laughing lightly.

"Huh?" Parks said.

"That you're a Yankee. Some of my best friends used to be Yankees."

"No, not me. The plane. The plane is called a Yankee."

"Oh," JD said, laughing again. "Well, I guess that's different. In any event, I expect if you know about that picture, it'll be worth our time to meet. As you said, the ID will prove you're the owner."

"Oh, great. I had about given up on that wallet," Parks replied. Then his voice sounded a bit embarrassed as he asked, "Um, when you, uh, found it, was there any money in it? And credit cards?"

"Let's see," JD paused, smiling. Most people were embarrassed to ask about that. It would be easy to claim the wallet had already been emptied when he found it, and they didn't want to imply that he had been the thief, but . . .

"There's about $60 or so, and a Mastercard, and, um, three or four others."

"Great!" Parks replied. "Where can I come to pick it up?"

JD gave his address and was expecting the call to end when Parks said, "Um, Summer? Or, no, it's JD right? Anyway, as thanks for finding my wallet, how about if I take you out to dinner? We could go get a pizza or something."

"Uh, sure," JD replied, a bit surprised. Well, it was better than nothing, and with only $60, this guy was not a high roller anyway.

"Great!" Parks said. "I'll be there in about, oh, an hour I guess."

"Fine," JD agreed, hanging up.

"What's goin' on, bro?" Deej asked.

"Oh, this guy has offered to buy me supper in return for finding his wallet."

"Uh, oh," Deej said, smirking.

"What?"

"It's that cool, throaty voice of yours," Deej warned. "Wanna bet that guy thinks you're a girl?"

"Oh, hell, not another one," sighed JD. "I wish my voice had turned out more like yours."

"Hasn't been since we were kids, about the time I started shaving," DJ observed.

"Yeah, don't remind me."

Deej shrugged and turned away, also not reminding JD of the golden band that still decorated the smaller brother's wrist. Perhaps he didn't notice.

**********************

The sound of the doorbell, an hour later, found JD in the bathroom so DJ answered the door to see an obvious college student, UofH jacket ringed with the record of several earned letters. The dark-haired, size-large visitor said, "Hi, I'm Tony Parks. Is Summer here?"

"Summer?" asked Deej.

"Yeah, oh, no, it was, um, JD. I just, ah, guess I got this other name stuck in my mind."

"Um, sure, just a second," Deej said, smiling, then yelled out, "Oh, 'Summer', your guest is here!"

"'Summer?' Who the hell is that?" JD asked as he walked into the room.

Parks' eyes widened as he looked at the smaller of the twins. He didn't say anything, but his surprise - and disappointment - were obvious. Deej smirked at his brother and invited him to take over by stepping back.

Their visitor recovered a bit of his composure by then and managed to explain on his own. "I'm sorry, but when you answered the phone, you said something about, um, 'Summer here', and I thought that was the name you liked for some reason."

"Oh, hell, that's just JD being a smart ass," Deej said before JD could explain. "He likes to be cute on the phone."

"Yeah, um, 'cute,'" Parks repeated, still showing signs of disappointment. He straightened up a little and asked, "So what was it you said?"

"Shelton Summer house," JD repeated. "Some're here and some're not."

"Oh, 'Some are here and some are not.' I get it," Parks said.

"Look, um, you're Anthony Parks, right?" JD asked, brusquely covering his own embarrassment. "You don't have to give me anything for finding your wallet. Here, you can have it."

"No, that's okay," Parks said, though he reached quickly for his wallet and checked the contents. "A pizza is at least fair." Then he looked at Deej and asked, "You want to come along?"

DJ's eyes refocused from somewhere and he looked more sharply at their guest. "You're the Tony Parks who plays strong safety for the Cougars, aren't you?"

Parks nodded, shrugging his shoulders to emphasize his letter jacket. "You into sports, too?"

"Uh, yeah," Deej replied with a not-too-subtle expansion of his own chest. "I'm here on a decathlon scholarship."

"Decathon?" Parks repeated. "I hear that's pretty tough."

"Not easy," Deej agreed, showing his pride through understatement.

"So, are we gonna get something to eat or not?" JD asked. "We could just stand here all night so you two can beat your chests if you're prefer."

"Oh, yeah, let's go," Parks said.

JD almost missed his meal anyway. By the time he got the TV and a couple of lights turned off, the two bigger men were already out the door and halfway to the street.

************************

"Hi, Summer," Parks said as JD opened the door. "Is Deej in?"

"Yeah, c'mon in," JD replied, sighing at the undesired nickname. It had been almost 3 weeks since Parks had hung it on him, and now his own brother had picked up the habit. He stepped back, inviting the football player into the apartment. "You two got plans?"

"Uh, yeah," the tall, dark-haired man replied. "Sorry, I didn't know you were, um, free this evening. We, uh, well, if you want to come along, I guess you could. We're taking a couple of girls from the Lady Cougars volleyball team to a movie, and then . . . "

"And that would make me what is so delicately called, 'a fifth wheel,' right?" JD sighed again. "No thanks." Then JD tugged at the waves of blond hair that trailed halfway down his back and smiled. "Besides, I really do have to wash my hair tonight. A day at the beach messes it up."

"Actually, it looks pretty good," Parks judged. "Too bad ol' Deej didn't get some of your hair and you a few of his inches – ah, I mean, some of his height. You'd look a lot more like twins if he didn't look like a cue ball."

Just then, DJ walked in from his own room. "Hey, man, I heard that. It so happens I like short hair. Always have. Besides, my brother grows enough for both of us." He turned to his brother and said, "Hell, 'Summer', you also make enough money for both of us. We ought to make you come and pick up the tab."

"None of my business, of course, but what does a college student do to make lots of money?" asked Parks.

"You mean, other than get a football scholarship and make generous alumni happy?" asked JD with a smirk. Then he continued, "Beachcombing, and things like that. I find things other people lose, like your wallet. Remember? It pays the bills."

"Cool. What's the best thing you ever found?"

"I don't know," JD replied thoughtfully, then his eyes widened and he seemed surprised to find the golden bracelet with the triangular gem on his wrist. "This, I guess."

"What's it worth?"

"I don't know. I never bothered to get it appraised. No one ever claimed it, and I just kept it. I've been wearing it so long now that I just forget I even have it."

No one commented on the contradiction between JD's continued wearing of the bracelet and his duty to have surrendered it to the police.

**********************

"Damn!" JD snapped, jerking his hand back from the half-buried bit of metal.

"What's the matter?" asked his professor, Dr. Emma Howard. She hurried over to her prize student at his particular corner of the study site.

Instead of looking at the specimen he was working to unearth, JD was looking at his hands. After a moment of self-examination, his long ponytail bounced over his shoulder as looked up at his teacher. "Oh, nothing, Professor. I thought I broke a nail, but it turns out I didn't even mess up the polish."

"I'm surprised you can manage long, elegant nails on a dig," Dr. Howard said, ruefully examining her own scraggly fingertips. "I certainly don't encourage it."

"Well, it does make me be very careful," JD said. "I broke too many fragile things when I was just rooting in the dirt like a badger. Now, the most fragile things are my nails, and anyway, it works."

"It does indeed," agreed his mentor. "What have you found?"

"Another necklace, I think," JD said. "At least, it's probably some sort of jewelry. It's metal, and seems to be links of a chain, but I don't think it's heavy enough for a working tool."

"Good," nodded the archaeology professor. "I don't know how you manage to find so many great artifacts, but I'm glad to have you on my dig."

"Remember that when you give me my grade," JD said, laughing.

"Is that bracelet from some other dig site? I've never seen a stone like that before."

"What bracelet? Oh, you mean this one I'm wearing? I, um, where did I find that? It wasn't on any archaeological expedition. I must have found this when I was beachcombing or something."

Dr. Howard looked at the strange triangular stone for just a moment more, then lost interest in it as she bent to examine the partially unearthed specimen. She sighed and said, "I hate these rushed weekend digs. We need to see if we can get this out today, or it will be another week. Let me help you."

******************

JD looked at his reflection in the mirror and sighed. Despite a pretty good tan, he was way too blond to spend so much time in the sun. His lips were swollen and puffy, and his face felt dried out. He surveyed the array of ointments and creams laid out before him and started to repair the damages. At least he wouldn't look pasty white. The ointments that protected his skin from sunburn were neutral shades, and there was a hint of color in the lip balm. Selecting the right colors took a little practice and experimentation, but he could end up looking pretty healthy with a little work. He'd been spending a little more time on protecting his face from the sun, and the results were pretty flattering really. Worth some more experiments, at least. Maybe he could, sort of, hide the lighter areas where his sunglasses had kept his face from getting quite so much sun. It would show pretty badly since he wouldn't be wearing sunglasses in class.

******************

"Hey, Summer, what's goin' on?"

Summer looked up to see Tony Parks, no surprise since he had already recognized the voice. He shrugged and said, "Just gettin' some new shoes. My old ones are rubbing my feet wrong or something."

Parks judiciously observed the candidates arrayed around the blond. "I like Reeboks, but Nikes might be better for your feet. They're pretty narrow."

"Yeah. I think I've been getting the wrong size, too. The sales guy said I need at least a full size smaller than my old shoes. I guess something must have been screwed up the last time I got my feet measured."

"There is so much variation in shoe sizes, especially on athletic shoes, that I don't know why they even bother putting a number on them," Parks complained. "You can never tell until you just wear them for a while. Then as soon as you find a style that fits, they change them."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Summer agreed. He slipped his feet into yet another pair, then his frown turned abruptly into a smile. "Now *these* are comfortable."

He gathered up the ones he wanted and moved to the checkout. Neither they nor the sales clerk seemed to think it was significant that the shoes Summer had selected had come from the women's section.

"So, what's next on your agenda?" Parks asked.

"I need to get some new jeans. I guess I've lost some weight or something, because the ones I've got are way too big in the waist."

"Don't brag," laughed Parks, then offered, "If you don't mind, maybe I'll tag along. I could use some new jeans, too."

Summer shrugged and led the way to the Guess outlet. He moved confidently to pick out two pairs of jeans and a pair of very short shorts, not bothering to try them on for size. In fact, he barely glanced at the size tags, seemingly drawn to the right clothes by instinct - which may account for the fact they were all size 8. Misses size 8.

******************

DJ Shelton opened the door to his apartment, then stepped back rather than in. His unusual action was triggered by the sight within his apartment - clothes strewn wildly all over the place, with his not-very-identical-twin sibling sitting among the debris, crying.

"What's the matter, Summer?" he asked.

"There's a damn pervert in the building!"

"What?" asked DJ, shoulders unconsciously swelling in preparation for combat.

"Some asshole swiped my underwear from the laundry basket, and put some men's boxers in there instead. And of course I started my damn time of the month early and I'm out of . . well, you don't care about that. I'm wearing men's boxer's for God's sake, and I don't give a damn that I'm spotting in them."

"Um, Sis, is there anything I can do?" JD asked, not for the first time very glad he wasn't subject to his sister's mood swings.

"Not unless you want to go get me some panties and some, ah, female things."

"Uh, well . . . "

"That's all right, brother dear," Summer said, standing. "I'll go get them. I . . oh, hell, by now you know how I get."

"Ah, yes," he said carefully.

Not carefully enough.

"Listen, you big ape, you don't have to agree so readily. It isn't MY fault!"

"No, of course not," he said quickly. "I'll, um, straighten up if you want to go get whatever it is you need."

"After you get done, go see if you can find the asshole who's swiping panties, and kill him for me."

"Will do," he promised, though the only real meaning to his words was that he wanted her out of the apartment.

 ****************

"Whoa, Summer, you advertisin' or what?" asked DJ as his sister walked through the room.

"Don't get me started," she warned. "I already asked you to kill the pervert who's swiping my clothes. Now he's stolen all my bras."

"Um, don't get me wrong, but . . . a knit shirt? A tight knit shirt?"

"All there is in my closet are jeans and knit tops, and a few oxford blouses. Without a damn bra, there's no way I'm wearing a stiff cotton blouse, and you know I don't go in for fancy silk outfits."

"Tony might like it if you do," Deej observed with a snicker.

"Tony likes me just fine the way I am," Summer claimed. The she giggled and said, "He'll probably like this look particularly well, if he sees me before I buy some new bras."

She grabbed her purse and headed for the door waving at her brother. Neither paid any attention to the glitter that reflected off her wrist.

 

 

 

 

*******************

Tony Parks straightened his unaccustomed tie and made sure he was holding the corsage right side up. Then he rang the doorbell.

"Wow, Summer, you look great!" he enthused as the pretty blonde opened the door to the apartment she shared with her brother.

"Thank you, kind sir," she said, dipping in an elegant curtsy. "A girl likes to look her best when her handsome prince comes to take her to the ball."

"It's hardly a 'ball'," Tony warned. "It's just a team banquet."

Summer giggled, and asked, "So, do you want me to go put on some jeans and a t-shirt?" She swept her hands down the very snug curves of her elegant black dress - what there was of it, tight shiny, and tiny. Then she pointed one toe and regarded her long, sleek leg and stilted heel. "Or should I get some cleats instead of these shoes?"

"Um, no," Tony said quickly. "I think I'll take you just the way you are."

 

 

 

 

 

***************

Summer roused from her nap with an itchy feeling at the back of her neck, as though someone were watching her. She cautiously opened her eyes against the bright sun to see a young girl staring intently at her. Summer checked quickly to see if the triangles of blue shimmer were still in place, keeping her barely legal for the Galveston beach, then looked again at the girl.

"Is something wrong?"

"You are sooo pretty!" the girl said.

"Why, thank you, young lady. What's your name?"

The girl looked over at a lounging woman, obviously her mother, and at the woman's nod she replied, "I'm Kathy. Who're you?"

"I'm Summer."

"That's a funny name," the girl observed.

"It's a funny story how I got it," Summer replied, then stopped, her eyes narrowing in a sudden frown.

When she didn't continue, the little girl wandered on. Summer's eyes stayed focused internally as she remembered the dream that had been interrupted. It had certainly been a strange one, full of outrageous things that no one seemed to notice. Digging for archaeological artifacts with long nails. How silly. But even more, to dream that she had been a boy? That was just plain weird. It all seemed to be connected with a strange bracelet she had seen in the dream, but she didn't even have a bracelet like that.

Gathering up her things, she decided she'd had enough sun for the day. Her husband would be home from practice soon, and she wanted to be fresh and pretty for him. She shook out her beach blanket, a fine layer of sand covering the last remaining glimpse of a shiny bit of gold. That, and the strangely untanned band around her wrist the only evidence that might have added a bit of credibility to her dream.

But she didn't seem to notice.

 

 

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© 2001 by Brandy Dewinter. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.